


Smells Like Fabric Softener

by misura



Category: Doctor Strange (2016)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 14:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13572471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "Um," Stephen said."You know, you were absolutely right when you told me that it was just like a cat," said Christine.





	Smells Like Fabric Softener

"Stephen," Christine said, and for a moment, he might almost believe he'd gotten his old life back, because he knew that tone of voice.

_Stephen, wake up, you're going to be late_ (when she knew perfectly well he could easily get both of them there ten minutes quicker if only she wouldn't be such a stickler for the speed limit).

_Stephen, be nicer to the family of the person whose life you just saved_ (well, that one hardly even needed a reply, did it? Honestly.)

" _Stephen._ "

"What?" He did not think of himself as not-a-morning person. As long as people didn't insist on waking him up, he was perfectly capable of getting out of bed the very picture of good cheer.

"Your cloak is uh - well, technically, I think this might be considered fondling. Maybe?"

" _What?_ " All right, that was new. Unfortunately, it also meant he should probably actually open his eyes and assess the situation, which meant he could forget about sleeping in today.

Christine hadn't gotten dressed yet, which was nice and something he might have considered worth waking up for under other circumstances. The Cloak spoilt the view somewhat, though. Not _all_ of the view, granted - Christine was a beautiful woman regardless of how much skin she showed, anyway, even if Stephen had, at some point, been rather partial to seeing her in a nice dress.

"Well?" Christine sounded annoyed more than anything, which was good. Probably.

"It's - " Nope, on second thought, telling her its name wasn't going to improve her mood. "It's all right. I think it just likes you. It's very affectionate," he offered. _Fickle,_ the Ancient One had said. "Like, I don't know, a cat?"

"A cat," Christine repeated. The Cloak tightened around her slightly. Stephen wondered if he had just insulted it, or, God forbid, hurt its feelings. Assuming it had feelings.

"You could try petting it."

Somewhat to his surprise, she seemed to take the suggestion seriously. "This isn't exactly the kind of morning I expected to have."

"I - " _I'm sorry._ "I can imagine. Fun, though, right?"

The Cloak rippled as Christine continued to pet it. "Fun? Last night was fun. This is just ... weird. I mean, what is this thing?"

"It's called the Cloak of Levitation," Stephen said. "Which you might think is kind of a stupid name - " the Cloak stiffened; there were definitely some sort of feelings going on there, which was just his luck " - but then, that would be just because you haven't heard of the Walking Stick of Wiggle Niggle or the Sandals of Serawassanitikakan."

She smiled. "You made those up, didn't you?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I did. My point is, these things - they all have strange, impractical names that tell you absolutely _nothing_ about what they're for. But this one - this one makes sense."

"It's a cloak that enables you to fly," Christine said. "Levitate," she amended, before he could correct her.

"It's saved my life, too," Stephen said, trying to make his voice sound warm and affectionate. "Several times. You and it have that in common."

"Wow. I'm so flattered, to be told I have something in common with a magical cloak."

The Cloak seemed pleased, though, so Stephen figured he would settle for one out of two. He had other methods to sweeten Christine, anyway. He hoped. "It was meant as a sincere compliment."

"Maybe you should think about the fact that you need an ER doctor and a piece of fabric to keep you alive and in relatively good health."

"I'm not unaware of how much I owe you," Stephen said, spotting an opening. "In fact, why don't you come back to bed so that I can - "

Well. He _had_ been rather hoping for the two of them to end up in a close approximation of their current position. Granted, they had involved Christine walking over here of her own volition (and at a considerably lower speed), but still. Gift horses. Magical cloaks.

"Um," Stephen said. 

"You know, you were absolutely right when you told me that it was just like a cat," said Christine.

"In theory, a cat could have made you trip over it at just the right moment to - fine, you win. It's nothing like a cat. It's a magical cloak that, for some inconceivable reason, likes me. Really, really likes me."

"Oh good. Something else it and I have in common."

"That's not what I meant," Stephen said. 

Christine kissed the tip of his nose. "I know."

"Of course, that doesn't make it any less true."

"If you _don't_ want a threesome with me and your magical cloak of flying, keep talking."

"A - " Stephen closed his mouth, before the Cloak could decide to be affectionately helpful again. "All right, shutting up now."

"Good choice."


End file.
